Something Wicked
by topazchild
Summary: King Uther's new resolve to keep a tighter rein on his son goes awry when the prince is nearly killed on a simple fact-finding mission, and Merlin devises a wild scheme to save the kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.**

**Please read and review.**

The tousled-haired young man groaned and cautiously opened indigo eyes. He was lying on his belly in a recess at the base of a shallow embankment. His shoulder was touching a motionless figure - Arthur - whom he had earlier dragged and shoved into the alcove before crawling in after him and passing out himself. Although he was close enough to hear him breathing, he fumbled for the blonde's wrist to feel for his pulse. It felt reassuringly strong.

"Arthur?" There was no response. He resisted the urge to shake the prince; they seemed to be in no immediate danger. Merlin took mental stock of himself. His head hurt, his vision was blurred, and a deep cut caused a stinging pain to shoot down one arm. He could feel warm and sticky blood soaking into his sleeve. He was starting to feel light-headed, and he closed his eyes. It was just for a few minutes he told himself.

The warlock had done an excellent job concealing himself and his friend. Sir Leon and the knights hadn't even slowed when they galloped past on the riding path above them.

Three days earlier

Merlin walked out to the stables in the early morning chill. It was early October, and the days were getting shorter and cooler. The prince had sent him out to make sure their horses were being saddled with all reasonable haste. They were departing early on the king's business and would be joined enroute by Gwaine and Lancelot. Inside the stables, the raven-haired young man saw his chestnut, Orion, being saddled and a second horse, one he'd never seen before, being led out of its stall. It was the color of freshly churned butter with a thick platinum mane and tail both of which fell in waves nearly to the ground.

"Where's Prince Arthur's horse?" Merlin asked a stable hand, an older man with lank gray hair.

"This one here," the stable hand replied, with a nod at the strange horse. "It was delivered last night. Special for the prince the man said."

_Arthur hadn't mentioned getting a new horse_, Merlin thought. _Wonder if he even knows about it. There were several odd aspects to this. For one, it was pouring down rain last night. Someone wanted the prince to have this horse badly enough to get drenched. _

"The one who delivered the horse. Did you know him?" Merlin asked.

"Naw, never saw him before." The older man was getting antsy, wanting to get back to work. What did it matter if he knew the person delivering the horse?

"Could you describe him for me?" Merlin persisted. He walked closer to the horse as he spoke, raising one hand to stroke the white blaze that ran down its velvet nose. His hand paused a few inches from touching already knowing what he would find.

"Couldn't see much of him," the man said, with a huff of impatience. "He had a hood over his head. On account of the rain."

_Yeah, that would be the reason_, Merlin thought. He stroked the horse as it watched him with intelligence in its clear amber eyes. He could see Arthur approaching in his peripheral vision.

"What's this? I have a new horse? Splendid!" the blonde said, with enthusiasm. He reached out to pat the horse's mane. Merlin could feel the magic spiraling out to encircle the prince. The horse was enchanting in every sense of the word.

"Um, Arthur, we're going to be gone for several days. Maybe you should ride a horse you're already familiar with. Ride Pyramus."

"Nonsense! Pyramus could use the rest after trekking nearly to the Seas of Meredor," the prince replied. "And the Giants' Dance," he added in a softer tone, with a sideward glance at Merlin. To the stablehand: "What's his name?"

"The man said his name was Asterion, your highness."

_Ruler of the stars_, Merlin thought. _How appropriate._

Later that afternoon

Arthur and his three companions, traveling incognito, had soon fallen in with a noble from a neighboring kingdom and his party. Arthur was passing himself off as a minor noble, 'Alexander,' on a scouting mission for the king of Camelot. Although the prince wore no golden dragons stitched on red backgrounds, the clothes he wore were expensive and well-made. The shirt his servant had dressed him in that morning was royal blue, deepening the color of his eyes; over it was a dark blue coat which fell mid-thigh. Tucked out of sight beneath his clothing was a silver chain from which dangled a silver dragon. Merlin was aware of its presence since he more-or-less dressed him, but he made no move to dissuade him. The necklace had belonged to the prince's mother, Ygraine.

Ever since Arthur had learned of his magic, Merlin had taken to secreting gemstones and charms with protective properties on the prince's person to the latter's amusement. Currently Arthur wore a woven bracelet threaded through with an amethyst, a yellow citrine, and a malachite gemstone on his left wrist. Personally, the blonde young man thought it a bit silly, but it seemed harmless, and it made his friend happy.

Late evening

Alarm bells went off in Merlin's head. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Lord Radborne's servant knew who Arthur was. The man was obsequious to the point of near reverence, and if no one had noticed it yet, it was just because they weren't paying attention. It was a matter of time. The servant had actually bowed when serving him earlier. Arthur was so used to people treating him with deference that it probably hadn't even registered. Merlin resolved to speak to the man privately at the first opportunity. He saw his chance in the evening when the man went to fill up water skins for Lord Radborne and his men. Merlin grabbed some mostly full water skins from where Gwaine and Lancelot had stowed their gear (earning him a quizzical look from the latter) and quickly followed. He threaded his way through the quaking aspens and juniper pine to where the stream bubbled and gurgled over small pebbles and knelt a few feet from the other servant.

"Oh, hello," Merlin said, adopting a friendly tone. "You are - Zenas?" At the other's nod, the dark-haired young man continued, "I'm Merlin. I wanted to talk to you. It seems as if you -" Merlin paused. He needed to be careful. There was a small chance he was wrong. "You have seen my - master before?"

"I saw him at a tournament in Camelot."

_Not wrong then_. "Yes, about that. The way you are treating him is calling attention to him or it will in time. He wishes not to be recognized."

Zenas stopped what he was doing and sat back on the ground. He looked at the warlock curiously. "Why is he traveling with only three companions? It is unsafe."

"If no one recognizes him, he's safe enough. Besides, the rest of Arthur's knights will be joining up with us in a day or two. There have been reports of goblins rampaging through King Melwas' kingdom and headed for our borders. We've been asking around, trying to verify those reports." Merlin hesitated. "You haven't said anything to Lord Radborne?"

"I tried to. I asked to have a few words with him in private. He told me I didn't know my place," Zenas said, affronted.

_Thank God for arrogant noblemen_, Merlin thought. "And now?"

"I will say nothing, I promise you," the servant said, with a grim smile.

"Thank you," Merlin replied, relieved.

When Merlin returned to the campsite, Arthur was explaining to Lord Radborne about unsubstantiated reports of goblins headed in the direction of Camelot. "The king has heard reports that these goblins are quite large. Some of them man-size."

"Peasant fairy tales more likely, Alexander," the noble snorted. "Meant to scare the children into keeping to their beds at night." Although privileged since birth, with an ingrained sense of entitlement, Radborne was not thoughtlessly cruel. He was not well-loved by his servants, but even they would attest that they were well-fed and their basic needs met.

Merlin replaced the water skins by Gwaine's and Lance's gear. He walked over to check if the goblet Arthur was holding needed more wine. He did this by grabbing hold of the prince's wrist and tilting his hand slightly. Zenas stared. He couldn't have fathomed behaving in a similar manner with Lord Radborne.

"That's enough for me, Merlin," Arthur said, absently. To the noble: "Don't be so quick to scoff, Lord Radborne. The creatures are said to have cut a wide path of destruction across the kingdom of Somerset. Word has reached my - the king they have attacked village after village, wantonly killing and injuring humans and animals alike."

"And King Uther is concerned with the events in Somerset?"

"Very much so. These creatures are not known to respect borders," Arthur said, grimly. "And early reports are that they are headed in our general direction."

"If all this is true, what is King Melwas himself doing to stop this?" The noble glanced in his servant's direction with a slight shake of his goblet. Zenas hurried to refill it.

"The king's nephew, Captain Benarik, has been chasing the horde across their kingdom with a large number of trained warriors. I've met the man on several occasions at tournaments in Camelot." Arthur happened to glance at his servant as he spoke. Merlin gave a slight shake of his head. _Be careful_.

"He's a good man," Arthur concluded. "Competent, no-nonsense type."

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Some distance away, Captain Benarik, the man under discussion, was well aware that in his zeal to track down and kill the goblins, he and his men had strayed over the border onto Pendragon land. Hating bright sunlight, the vile creatures were attacking only at night. He had lost none of his men so far due not to any particular skill on their part but on the simple fact that they had yet to engage.

**a/n: The goblins in this story are more similar to the orcs in LOTR than they are to the small, mischievous creature in 3.3.**

**a/n: This story contains a number of original characters from my previous stories. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

As goblins go, they were quite large - man-size - a few of them even bigger. They were hideously ugly; wart-like growths covered their heads and necks, their mottled skin the color of dry mud. Huge raggedy-edged ears extended outward from their misshapen skulls, the stench from rotting teeth fouling the air around them. Two grayish fangs shot upward from their lower jaw, their nostrils slits in their flattened noses.

Morning

The prince took Merlin and the two knights and departed camp the next morning making tentative plans to catch up with Lord Radborne in a day or so. He needed to talk with people in a nearby village both to warn them and to gather intel.

Gwaine rapped on the door then stepped out of the way for Arthur. The woman who answered was middle-aged and matronly, gray streaks threading throughout her brown hair. Half-hidden in the folds of her long skirt crouched a fat orange cat. The woman recognized Arthur immediately. "Your highness," she said, her words accompanied by a curtsy.

After a few inquiries and a brief exchange of information Arthur thanked the woman and turned to leave. "Wait, Sire," she said. "You will not be able to make it back to Camelot before dusk."

_So? _the prince thought, wondering what was her point. "We have no plans to return tonight. We will make camp as we've done many times before." Arthur looked down to see the woman's cat rubbing against his leg.

"Stay here tonight in our village where you'll be safe. We will, all of us, be pleased to offer shelter to the Prince of Camelot. You must not sleep in the open, Sire, and you must not travel at night."

Arthur's irritation at being told what to do was tempered by the very real worry in the woman's eyes. "We are warriors, Mistress, and well-armed ones at that," he said to her with a small smile. "Let the creatures beware." The blonde young man would have a chance to eat those words later. Behind him his servant shifted from foot to foot uneasily, a _frisson_ of apprehension rippling down his spine.

Arthur was turning once more to leave when the woman suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm. "You must listen to me, Sire. You are in great danger."

Gwaine and Lancelot hastily moved up to either side of the prince when Arthur raised his free hand. "Hold," he told them. To the woman: "I thank you for your concern, but we are experienced in these matters, and my men are well-trained." He pulled his arm free from her grasp.

Moments later, Merlin held the prince's horse as he mounted. "Maybe we should listen to her, Arthur," the warlock murmured in a low tone. "Spend the night in the village."

"Don't be such a girl, Merlin."

They had ridden a short distance when the raven-haired servant pulled up his horse. There was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something about what the woman had said. What was it? She had told Arthur that he would be safe staying in the village. Why would she say that? The nasty creatures had plundered village after village. Arthur had plainly told her that. He had heard him. He needed to go back. Talk to her again.

Ahead the prince had paused his horse, the wind lightly ruffling a few strands of his blonde hair. He sat looking back over his shoulder, a mildly annoyed look on his face. "What is it now, _Mer_lin?" he asked.

"Um, go ahead without me, Arthur. I'll catch up." On the words, the young man whirled the chestnut around and loped off before the prince could stop him.

"Now what is Merlin going on about?" Gwaine asked, laughing. "Probably answering nature's call," he added, answering his own question.

"Want me to wait for him, Sire?" Lancelot asked.

"No. Stay with me. He's safe enough. The creatures attack at night."

"Usually," Gwaine said under his breath.

A short time later, Merlin found himself once again at the woman's house on the outskirts of the little village. He rapped on the door.

"You're the servant to Prince Arthur," the woman said upon opening her door, not particularly surprised to see him. She absently tucked a strand of gray hair behind one ear.

"Yes, and his friend. My name is Merlin."

"Mine is Eilidh. Would you like to come in? Perhaps have some mead?"

"No, thank you. Why did you say Arthur would be safe in your village?" Merlin asked, not mincing words. "I mean, what's so special about _this_ village?"

"Well, the cats," she said, pulling her skirt back from the orange cat.

"What?" As a _non sequitur_, it was stunning.

"Goblins don't like cats," Eilidh explained patiently. "They're afraid of them."

Merlin laughed a bit uncertainly. She was joking, right? What an odd notion. "Right. Well, thanks for the information. I'll let the prince know." He backed up until he was stopped by his horse. "I need to catch up with my friends." He hopped back up on Orion with alacrity, and with a brief wave of his hand, he was gone.

Merlin decided not to mention the conversation to the prince.

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After Merlin rejoined his companions, the four of them hurried to catch up with Lord Radborne.

"Ah, Alexander," the noble chuckled upon seeing them, "I thought perhaps the goblins had gotten you."

Arthur smiled thinly, not finding the remark particularly funny. "No, we're safe as you can see."

True to his word to Merlin, Zenas was less attentive to the prince, avoiding him whenever possible, addressing him as milord when not, altogether acting with chilly formality. Merlin thought that he was overdoing it a bit, but Lord Radborne seemed oblivious.

That evening, after they had set up camp, the raven-haired warlock walked the perimeters of the camp, murmuring spells of protection and setting up wards. He doubted if they would stop a horde of rampaging goblins - the creatures had strong magic he knew - but they would serve as an alarm if nothing else. The prince unasked walked in silence beside him. Merlin felt strong emotion welling up inside him at his presence. To be who he truly was inside and to be accepted by his friend was all he had ever dreamed. He was glad that the darkness hid the wetness on his cheeks. Upon nearing the camp, Merlin impulsively hugged the blonde young man.

"Thank you, Arthur."

"For what?"

"For trusting me."

Sometime after midnight

Merlin, submerged somewhere between dreams and waking, felt something nudge the edges of his mind. Some formless dread, a night terror that he instinctively shied away from. His consciousness spiraled upward through the remaining levels of sleep and surfaced, his eyes opening onto darkness. "Gwaine?" he murmured, knowing the knight to be on sentry duty.

There was a shift in the direction of the wind. At the same time, Merlin felt something approaching the outermost ward. _An animal_,he thought hopefully, but not really believing it. "Gwaine," he said again. "Something's coming."

But Gwaine was already alert, standing with his sword drawn, looking around uneasily. "Wake Arthur; I'll get Lance," the roguish knight hissed in a low voice. "And the others," he added, belatedly remembering Lord Radborne and his retinue.

The dark-haired servant scrambled over in a half-crouched position and clumsily fell against the prince. "Arthur! Wake up!" he said, unnecessarily. Arthur sat up hastily, wondering why he hadn't killed his servant long before this. "Unless we're under attack, _Mer_lin…."He stopped. Gwaine had awakened Lancelot and several of the others, and they could all hear the horses stamping and moving restlessly in growing panic. Then came the first faint hint of something putrid on the wind.

"Goblins," Arthur said, pushing Merlin aside and springing to his feet, sword in hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Captain Benarik dismounted, letting the reins drop, and knelt beside his horse. Tuning out the low mutterings of his men and the restless nickering and stamping of their horses' hooves, he examined the forest floor with its broken limbs and crushed leaves. They could all see the footprints left by the goblins. A few of them overlapped and some were smeared but he could still make a fairly accurate guess as to the number of creatures. "Seventeen or eighteen of them, I'm thinking. Same as yesterday," he said over his shoulder.

"Nothing seems to be stopping them," one of the men grumbled.

Benarik felt a flutter of anticipation in his belly. They were close, possibly less than an hour behind. "There's us," he said. "We're going to be stopping them."

"Damn straight," someone replied.

Night

The lead goblin hesitated, sensing the outermost ward. _Magic. _He turned around and signaled the others to stop. "There is a magic-user at this encampment," Kurogk snarled in a low tone, the slits in his flattened nose vibrating with each breath. "Locate him. Bring him to me. Alive."

So focused were the nightmarish horde on their next potential victims that they neglected to check their back trail. If they had done so, they would have been aware of the very determined force pursuing them across kingdom borders from out of Somerset.

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Lord Radborne was no coward; very few times in his life had he felt fear, but he had grown soft with the years of wealth and privilege. It came to him with a sobering shock that the difference between living and dying might well come down to his ability to use what had become merely a part of his wardrobe - his sword.

Lancelot positioned himself at Arthur's left, Gwaine on his right. Lance glanced around. Radborne and his men were armed and ready, even the servant, Zenas, clutched a dagger. The knight noticed with fleeting humor that the latter stood closer to the prince as if to defend him than he did his own master. He supposed the noble was too preoccupied to notice. Under different circumstances, he would have laughed. Merlin had told him that Zenas knew very well that 'Alexander' was Prince Arthur. On the thought, he looked around. Where was Merlin? Ah, he was behind them to the side, partially hidden behind a tree.

Lancelot swung back around. With shocking suddenness the goblins were through the last of the magical barriers and with shrieking blood lust into the midst of their camp. Arthur and his two knights immediately closed with several of the creatures, the prince's sword arm a blur as he engaged. Blood soon spattered his chain mail and soaked through to his clothing beneath. A quick swipe at his cheek left a smear of blood on his face. Gwaine, desperate to protect the prince, stepped hastily in front of him as a goblin lunged and took a sword thrust into his side. Clutching at the blood gushing from the wound the knight fell groaning to the ground. Arthur jumped over his body in an effort to shield him and stood fending off attackers as several large tree branches toppled onto the creatures.

"Lance!" screamed the prince. "Drag Gwaine out of here if you can!" The knight hesitated, loath to leave the prince's side. "That's a order!" Arthur added, sweat running down the sides of his face and plastering strands of damp hair onto his forehead. The stench of the goblin horde mingled with freshly spilt blood was making them all feel queasy.

The knight knelt beside his fallen companion as Arthur and several of Radborne's men covered them and pressed Gwaine's hand to his side. "Stay with me, friend," he murmured. He glanced up and behind them and saw the warlock running toward him. "Stay, Merlin! I'll bring him to you." He pulled Gwaine, barely conscious, to his feet and half dragged him to where Merlin had stopped. He exchanged a quick glance with the warlock. _Can you fix this? _

"I think so," Merlin said, nodding his head. He looked around them for more cover. "Behind those trees, Lance." Moments later, the knight assisted him in easing their injured friend to the ground.

Lord Radborne was acquitting himself surprisingly well, the old moves coming back to him as he fought for his life. _Funny what you could do when your back was against it_, he thought. Around him fought his remaining men, several having already fallen and lay in pools of their own blood. Unnoticed, his personal servant stood near the golden-haired prince, clutching his dagger, anxious to do what he could to keep the royal safe.

With Radborne's men fighting with him, and Lancelot and Merlin trying to save Gwaine, Arthur suddenly became more vulnerable. Three of the vile creatures rushed him at once, one fighting him with sword, one grabbing at his left wrist, and the third, having maneuvered behind him, preparing to run him through from behind. Two things happened simultaneously. First, the goblin clutching at Arthur's left wrist howled as he felt a shock run through his arm as his misshapen hand closed over the woven bracelet, the one with the protective gemstones that Merlin had fastened on his friend's arm. The malachite, the amethyst, and the yellow citrine left scorching black marks on the creature's flesh. Second, Zenas saw his chance to protect the prince at last. With all the strength he had, he plunged the dagger into the back of the third goblin. The evil creature fell to one knee, roaring with pain.

"It's the magic-user!" screamed the second goblin. "He's the one we want! Alive! Take him alive!"

He was mistaken of course but Arthur was not foolish enough to point that out.

A short distance away

Gwaine's chain mail had saved his life, but several links had been severed and his assailant's sword had sunk deep into his flesh. Blood spilled from the wound. The knight's face was ashen as Merlin and Lancelot knelt on either side of him. His eyelids drooped shut, and his body went slack as he lost consciousness.

_You can do this_, Merlin told himself. _You have to._ Lancelot watched anxiously as the warlock laid his hand over the wound. There was a sudden roar and they both looked up to see a lone goblin rushing toward them, his sword upraised and blood lust in his eyes.

"_Awenda__þ__ eft wans__æ__liga neat,"_ Merlin chanted. The stinking creature flew backwards, slamming into a tree. Lancelot jumped to his feet and hastily skewered it where it lay, rancid blood spewing upward in a foul-smelling shower. The knight stumbled backwards, his hand over his nose.

The warlock turned his attention back to Gwaine. Once again he laid his hand over the injury. _Ahl__ú__ttre __þá__ s__é__ocnes. __Þ__urhh__æ__le br__æ__d. _The blood flow slowed to a seepage then stopped altogether. Merlin could feel energy leaving his own body as the edges of the wound knit themselves back together, and color returned to the knight's complexion. Merlin rocked back, exhaling in relief. That was too close.

"He'll be all right?" Lancelot asked.

"Yeah," Merlin replied. He raised his arm. "Help me up." The dark-eyed knight pulled the warlock to his feet. "We need to get back to Arthur," Merlin said.

"Do we just - leave him?" Lancelot asked, uncertainly, looking down at where Gwaine lay.

"He's starting to come around. He'll be safe enough for a few moments." Uneasy himself, the warlock uttered a quick spell of protection.

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Benarik and his men had long since stopped tracking the goblins by moonlight through the forest. It was no longer necessary. They could hear the mingled shouting and clanging of combat from some distance. _Some poor travelers, _the captain thought, _misguided enough to risk traveling by night. _It was with considerable surprise, therefore, when they burst into view of the encampment. These were no merchants or peasants traveling between villages. These were well-armed warriors prepared to fight to the death. He swore. He did not recognize Lord Radborne, but he sure as hell recognized the Prince of Camelot. What was Uther thinking? The young man was in extreme peril.

Moments before the warriors from the neighboring kingdom of Somerset appeared, Lancelot and Merlin raced back to assist Arthur. The disgusting, vile, and stinking goblins had mobbed the prince, holding onto his arms and body in an attempt to restrain him. _They must want him alive_, Merlin thought, grateful for the moment. The warlock felt faint as he realized Arthur might have been stabbed to death while he was saving Gwaine's life. He wasn't much on trading one friend's life for someone else he cared about. Lancelot shook his arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah," the warlock replied, somewhat untruthfully. The extreme loathsomeness of the monsters physically touching Arthur made him want to gag. If the two of them managed to survive this thing, Merlin thought, inconsequentially, Arthur was going to be dumped in a steaming hot bath as soon as humanly possible, and he was going to scrub every inch of his body.

One of the goblins, impatient with Arthur's struggling, backhanded him across the face. The blonde-haired young man sagged in their hold, falling to his knees, thus allowing Merlin to use his magic. Kurogk, hurrying over to the other goblins, screamed, "No! Alive! We need him - "

"_Ic __þ__e wi__þ__dr__í__fe." _The goblins holding Arthur flew backwards, as the prince slumped onto his belly into grass and earth sticky with blood. Benarik and his men picked that opportune moment to charge into camp shouting. Lancelot looked up in disbelief at this unexpected reprieve. The goblins, taken totally by surprise, milled in confusion. Lancelot and Merlin pulled the shaken prince to his feet.

"Get him out of here!" Lancelot said. "Somewhere safe. I'll cover - " A frenzied goblin rushed Merlin, raising his sword arm to slash him. The dark-eyed knight, loosening his hold on the prince, managed to partially deflect the blow which cut a painful gash down the warlock's arm.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The raven-haired young man scrambling down the shallow embankment tried to hold on to an injured and very weary prince but the two of them ended up in an undignified heap at the bottom. He wasn't feeling very well himself, and the part of him that was still lucid acknowledged that he made a mistake when he told Lancelot he was all right. He wasn't. Blood was soaking his sleeve, and he was feeling a bit woozy. He tried to ask the prince how badly he was injured, but Arthur was so out of it that even talking was too much of an effort.

Back at the encampment, the remaining goblins had left en mass, the surprise appearance of the warriors from King Melwas' kingdom unnerving. They left behind six goblin bodies, two of whom were still alive. Captain Benarik, with the assistance of Lancelot and Lord Radborne, went from body to body checking for signs of life. They hastily dispatched the two goblins that were still alive.

Benarik rather belatedly thought to identify himself. "My name is Captain Benarik, nephew to King Melwas. My men and I have been chasing these creatures across the whole of Somerset."

There was a brief but polite silence. Since these people had in essence saved all of their lives, no one wanted to point out that they were considerably out of their jurisdiction. Lord Radborne took it upon himself to express gratitude on behalf of them all. Lancelot looking over his shoulder was relieved to see Gwaine awake and healthy and walked to met him.

"What happened, mate?" Gwaine asked, puzzled. "I thought I was slashed by a sword-" he touched his side - "I thought -" The rakish knight looked around. "Who are these people? And where is Arthur? Hell, where is Merlin?" Gwaine looked increasingly unhappy.

"The prince is with Merlin. I'm not sure where they are now. The newcomers are from King Melwas' kingdom. They chased the goblins over the border. And, Gwaine, only six of the creatures are dead, leaving as many as twelve still alive. We need to hook back up with Sir Leon, locate Arthur and Merlin, and return to Camelot." It was a lot for Gwaine to digest, and Lancelot hoped he didn't notice that he had failed to explain why the knight was no longer injured.

Zenas, meanwhile, was looking around for the prince and was getting more panicked by the minute when he failed to find him. "Where is the - where is Alexander?" he asked no one in particular.

Lord Radborne glanced at his servant, then started looking at the bodies around him. "He was fighting off several of those disgusting creatures over here," the noble said, uneasily. He indicated a nearby area. The disquieting thought crossed several of their minds that the creatures might have taken the young man with them.

"Where is he?" Zenas asked, distressed.

"What does he look like - this Alexander?" Benarik asked, carefully.

"Early twenties," Lord Radborne began, "blonde hair, blue eyes -"

"Peak physical condition," Zenas contributed.

"Excellent with a sword," the noble continued. "The best I've ever seen."

_Yes, he is_, Benarik thought, having seen the prince in action in several tournaments in Camelot. _So the young prince was traveling incognito then. _

Lancelot did not want to have a conversation with Benarik, or with Radborne either for that matter. He did not want to be asked any questions about 'Alexander.' He was grateful to the former for quite probably saving all their lives, but he was anxious to meet up with Sir Leon and the knights, snatch up the prince and Merlin and get the hell out of here. He had a hasty whispered tête-à-tête with Gwaine who was now fully recovered from his near fatal injury, and the two of them melted back into the surrounding woods.

The horses, in their panic, had broken free from their tether but luckily had drifted back toward the encampment. The two knights quickly recovered their own horses but when they tried to grab hold of Asterion, Arthur's cream-colored stallion, the beautiful animal reared, whinnied, and shook its mane wildly. It galloped off with the chestnut racing a few paces behind. Lancelot and Gwaine, after a few choice words from the latter, gave it up as a bad job, and departed to meet up with Sir Leon at their prearranged meeting point.

A short time later

Sir Leon sighed deeply when only the two knights rode up, but given the prince's propensity for trouble, was not particularly surprised by that young man's absence nor that of his usual 'partner-in-crime,' Merlin. "Where is he?" he asked, heavily.

"He's with Merlin," Lancelot responded. "The four of us were traveling with a noble and his retinue when our camp was overrun by goblins during the night." Angry muttering could be heard coming from Percival. "Merlin got Arthur out of there," the dark-eyed knight continued, "while Gwaine and I helped hold them off." He felt Gwaine glance at him. The last had not been strictly true, the knight being badly injured at the time, but he had no desire to put the warlock in danger. He went on to tell about the unexpected arrival of King Melwas' nephew and his men.

"Yes, I've met him at several tournaments," Sir Leon nodded. "He's a good man," he concluded, echoing Arthur's earlier assessment.

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Three of the grotesque creatures had doubled back when it appeared that Benarik and his men had halted their pursuit. One of them stood on the riding path above the embankment, the slit membrane of his nose vibrating as he sniffed the air around him. His two cohorts were spread out looking for any sign that someone had recently passed through that way. They wanted the yellow-haired warrior, the fierce fighter, although Kurogk was no longer certain that he was the one possessing magic. Both the yellow-hair and the dark-haired one who accompanied him had been cut and would be bleeding.

"Here," one of them said, excitedly. The other two converged on some undergrowth where drops of blood had fallen. They searched the surrounding area for bent and broken twigs and grasses.

A few feet below where they stood, though they were unaware of it, the warrior prince and his servant lay in an exhausted slumber. Merlin lay on his belly, his arm overlapping the prince's.

There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere and one of the goblins looked around him uneasily. He could feel a swirl of chilled air and caught a faint whiff of something - he couldn't quite put a name to it. A spice of some kind he thought. A gutteral snarl from deep in his throat alerted the other two. Heads snapped up. The three froze with increasing unease. There was another presence - something terrifying. One of them eased back from the edge of the embankment. They moved closer together, their backs nearly touching. Then, without a further word being spoken, they fled.


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter Five

"Emrys?" The girl bent slightly at the waist and tilted her head as she peered into the recess. One soft dimpled hand brushed her auburn hair off her face. "Emrys, wake up!" She was a lovely girl of seventeen years dressed somewhat puzzlingly in an ankle-length gown with rows and rows of eyelet lace in varying shades of cream. Around her neck a ruby-studded firebird dangled from a long silver chain. Someone unacquainted with her might be pardoned for mistaking her for an angel. They would be wrong. Her place of origin was in fact the underworld, and Merlin's prior experiences with her were anything but celestial.

"Emrys, you need to move," the girl insisted, impatience edging into her voice. "And you need to pull the prince out where his knights can find him." She reached down and tugged at one of the young man's arms.

Merlin groaned and peered out through half-opened blue eyes. He must be hallucinating. That almost sounded like Mariana, but he knew he hadn't been _that_ bad. The gods wouldn't be that cruel to him. He cautiously reached out with one hand and felt one of her satin slippers. He ran his fingertips over the tiny pearls delicately stitched on top. She was distressingly real. Now that he was more awake, he could feel the frigid air swirling around the girl's figure and smell a faint hint of cinnamon. He closed his eyes. He was not strong enough to deal with this. His injured arm felt like it was on fire, and his head was throbbing. The fingers of his right hand closed around the prince's arm for reassurance and support. He felt slight movement and wondered if his friend was waking up.

"She's right, you know," said a new voice. "You need to crawl out of there."

Mariana whirled around. The speaker was a tall, stately woman with long hair that seemed to shimmer with fire. "Brigid." The girl did not appear at all pleased to see her. "I am helping Emrys and Prince Arthur myself." She did not add that the older goddess' assistance was not needed, but the unspoken words hung in the air.

Brigid smiled rather thinly and stepped around Persephone's daughter, shamrocks and small flowers springing from her footsteps. She knelt down and peered into the shallow recess. "Emrys, open your eyes. I am unable to reach the prince with you blocking access."

_She said that like it was a bad thing_, Merlin thought, a bit sarcastically. He supposed he was getting lightheaded.

"The prince's knights are looking for him," Brigid continued, in the patient tone of one dealing with a small difficult child. "They will not be able to find him if you keep him hidden."

"_I_ am helping them," Mariana insisted again with a flare of temper. Merlin groaned. _Helping? _The last encounter with the girl had nearly resulted in Arthur getting trampled to death by his own horse.

"Do not take that tone with me or Persephone will hear of this," Brigid said. Mariana stomped off a few yards and stood sulking.

Merlin could feel Arthur's fingers digging into his side accompanied by a low grunt of pain. The prince was waking up, and he wanted out.

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Sir Leon, after the prince had failed to show at their prearranged meeting spot, made the assumption that Merlin had taken him to Gaius to treat his injuries. Not having orders to the contrary, Leon and the knights, newly joined by Gwaine and Lancelot, were headed back toward Camelot. Lancelot, less convinced than the others, kept a sharp eye on his surroundings as he rode. When the peregrine falcon flew overhead, circled them once, and then flew back in the direction they had just come, the dark-eyed knight pulled his horse up sharply. "Gwaine," he said, "the falcon."

The rakish knight had also seen the raptor. "Sir Leon," he called out, "They're behind us."

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Merlin felt himself being pulled out of the shallow recess by some invisible force. Although the triple goddess was not touching him, he knew she had been the one to do so. Mariana was still standing a few feet away with a look of petulance on her lovely face. Merlin felt a shudder run through him. Persephone's daughter was trouble enough in a good mood. He really did not want to be around her in a bad one.

Arthur, though weakened by blood loss, was trying to slid out of the alcove when he too was suddenly pulled out. He was struggling to sit up when his servant grabbed his arm in an effort to help him. "Here, Arthur. Easy."

The prince looked into his friend's blue eyes. Merlin looked scared. The blonde looked around and saw the tall woman with the flaming hair. Brigid. Goddess of fire, poetry, prophecy, and _healing_. Still, her presence would not explain the look on Merlin's face. He himself did not find her presence threatening. Why should Merlin? Then he saw her, standing a few feet away and sulking. _Mariana_. Oh, hell. That would account for it.

"I need you to stay where you are for a moment, Prince Arthur," Brigid said, as she unfastened the heavy mantle she was wearing and swung it off her shoulders. She spread it over the prince's legs where he sat and held it against his chest. "Mariana?" she said, in a olive branch to the younger girl. "Could you help me?"

The auburn-haired girl, not wishing to be excluded, decided to graciously lend her assistance, to Brigid's amusement and Merlin's discomfort. She daintily knelt beside the warlock and pulled the other edge of the mantle across his chest and tucked it beneath his leg. She leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek and attempted to straighten his disheveled hair with her slender fingers.

As soon as Brigid's mantle was fastened around the pair of them, Arthur could feel a soothing warmth stealing through his veins, vanishing his fatigue, healing the numerous sword cuts, and knitting up the broken places. He turned to look at his friend. Merlin looked distracted. Not that he could blame him. Mariana was kneeling beside him, balancing herself with her hand on his shoulder. Well, he couldn't fix that. The warlock was on his own. He stood up and turned to the fiery-haired goddess.

"On behalf of my servant and myself, I would like to thank you for your gift of healing."

"You are most welcome, Prince Arthur," she said, smiling. She turned her head, seeming to listen to something that he could not hear. Mariana, too, stood up and turned, listening.

"Your knights are coming, Prince Arthur," the girl said. "You need to climb up to the riding path. Or just - ." The blonde found himself lifted and deposited onto the top of the embankment, Merlin following a few seconds later.

"I could have done that myself," the warlock grumbled.

"Shh," the blonde said hastily, in an undertone.

**a/n: Although the Celtic goddess, Brigid, is referred to as the triple goddess, in this story she is not related to the three women in 5.5. **

**a/n: The peregrine falcon was supposed to make a one-time appearance in "Silver Dragon," but he kept flying back into the pages of my stories. :-) **


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter Six

Merlin looked at the prince in surprise. He no longer stank of blood and gore and the stench of the goblins. His skin and hair and clothing were scented like the sweet wine of an apple orchard and a golden glow enveloped his body. The warlock supposed that had occurred when the triple goddess had healed them. He looked at his own arm; the deep, painful gash was gone, and he no longer felt light-headed. He looked around for the goddess to thank her. Though Mariana had joined them and stood a little ways off, deep in thought, the goddess was nowhere to be found, he observed, disappointed.

"We need to find the horses," Arthur said to him, "and meet up with Sir Leon. You all right?"

"Yes." And he'd be even more all right if Mariana would leave. The girl's presence was unnerving him.

Whatever she had been thinking about, she seemed to have come to some sort of decision. She walked over to them and slipped her hand into the warlock's. "Emrys, you would love my mother, and she's anxious to meet you. Come home with me - "

"No!" the prince said, forgetting to be diplomatic in his haste. "My servant will _not_ be traveling to Hades with you, and he will _not_ be crossing the River Styx -"

"Arthur," the raven-haired man said, warningly, seeing a shadow of annoyance cross the girl's lovely features. He was too late. The prince fell unconscious at his feet.

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The peregrine falcon had flown point, heading back into the forest from whence they'd come. Sir Leon pondered the situation as they rode. The king was not going to be happy to hear that the prince had faced the horde of goblins with two knights and a servant, no matter how many strangers they rode with. Before they left, Uther had had a private word with him. After the near debacle of the burning rocks, the king had vowed to keep a tighter rein (so to speak) on his only son. Sir Leon was to return the prince to Camelot if he felt him to be in mortal danger. The knight had cringed inwardly. Arthur was daring, courageous, and willful. Yeah, good luck with that, he thought.

The knights rode around a bend in the riding path and came to a hurried stop. The falcon flew up into a nearby tree. The prince was lying in the middle of the path, unmoving; the golden light that bathed his skin making him look like a celestal being that had fallen to earth from the stars. Merlin hastily held up his hand. "Come no further," he said. Percival was already off his horse, but he halted. Every knight but one recognized Mariana, Persephone's mercurial daughter.

Sir Fletcher had but recently become a knight. He had not journeyed to Drachenfels nor had he been in the great hall when Mariana had warned the king of the infertility curse. He found the current situation to be confusing. He saw no rampaging horde of goblins, nothing in fact that would cause an entire contingent of knights to suddenly freeze in their tracks. There was a servant, the prince's personal servant to be exact, and a girl, a very pretty one, he thought. What was she doing out here all alone and unprotected? And what was the girl wearing? It was a long cream-colored dress with rows and rows of eyelet lace. He caught a glimpse of a satin slipper. He was no authority on women's clothing, but it seemed to him odd attire for the middle of nowhere.

Merlin fought down panic and told himself sternly that he had to handle this. She was fond of him, he knew. Maybe he could use that to their advantage. "I would love very much to meet your mother - "

Persephone's daughter dimpled prettily and grasped the warlock's hand in both of hers.

"- but the kingdom is in deadly peril right now, and the prince needs me to, uh, stand by him and help in any way I can," he finished. Seeing the stormy look in her brown eyes, he hurriedly added, "Next spring, when Persephone returns to Midgard and the grain grows again and flowers bloom in the sunbaked meadows, I can meet her then." Merlin stopped to gauge her reaction. He was uncomfortably aware that the knights could probably hear every word that he said.

She leaned in closer to him and whispered in his ear, not wanting to be overheard by the knights. "All right, Emrys, but I will hold you to it. Next spring without fail." She stepped back from him and raised one soft dainty hand. "I have summoned your horses. They should be here shortly."

"Thank you," he said, relieved and grateful.

"To defeat the goblins, you will need Justin," she added, cryptically.

"For what?" he asked, confused, knowing the artisan was no warrior.

"Move away from me, and close your eyes," she warned him, ignoring his last question.

This time he chose to obey her. In a reversal of sorts, the warlock threw himself on top of the prince and closed his eyes. Immediately a swirling wind materialized near him, and he could hear the plunging and snorting of the knights' panicked horses and somewhere far off, the wailing of doomed souls. Icy fog spun out and smoke filled the riding path and seconds later she was gone.

Sir Fletcher, feeling light-headed, grabbed at the pommel of his saddle.

A few moments later, Gwaine, Elyan, and Lancelot joined Percival in walking carefully through the icy mist (which was slow to clear) to reach Merlin and the prince. They pulled the warlock free from him, and Percival held the sleeping prince against his chest until he woke. The first sight that met his cerulean blue eyes was Asterion running through the swirling mist looking like a creature in a storybook.

**a/n: Yes, I know, Midgard is Norse mythology not Greek. :-) **


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter Seven

Arthur had given Sir Leon no argument about returning to Camelot to that knight's pleased surprise. He had said very little, in fact, only smiling when Gwaine had taken a couple of whiffs and asked if he had been eating apples. They had arrived back just after nightfall to be met by the king himself.

"Gaius is waiting in your quarters, Arthur. Go there now." The king glanced at his son's horse as he spoke. He didn't recall ever seeing it before.

"I'm fine, Father. I need to speak to you." The prince slid off the stunning cream-colored horse and stood, stroking his mane. Two stable hands hurried over to lead the stallion away.

"Do as I say," the king commanded. "Sir Leon can give me a preliminary report tonight. I'll speak with you in the morning."

"Yes, Father."

The dark-haired servant lowered his eyes to hide what he was thinking. As usual, the king refrained from showing open affection toward his son. Arthur was seldom touched in love. Merlin thought gratefully of his mother, Hunith, who had showered him from birth with hugs, verbal encouragement, and kisses. Not for the first time he reflected that it was the prince in the castle who was impoverished.

Merlin accompanied the prince to his quarters, yawning as he walked. Gaius checked Arthur over and, although a bit puzzled by the apple orchard scent which still clung to him, declared him to be in excellent health. On orders of the king, the physician gave the prince a sleeping draught, telling him only that it would relax him. He sunk drowsily back onto his bed, his blue eyes closing as he fell into a deep sleep. Merlin leaned over the bed and lifted his left wrist. Amazingly the protective gemstones were still on it, intertwined in the woven cords. He decided to leave them there. The warlock mumbled a spell, and a fur coverlet on the foot of the bed spread itself over the sleeping figure.

"You're next, Merlin," the physician said as they both walked to the door. "And then you can tell me what happened."

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King Uther was increasingly feeling that things were out of control. He hated that feeling. Ever since his son had been snatched by King Alined's men and dragged to the Giants' Dance, he had resolved to keep a closer eye on his son's whereabouts and who he was keeping company with. His original orders had been to gather information only. Subsequent events seemed to have spiraled off from there.

Sir Leon had been told to report to the king immediately. To say that he was not looking forward to this meeting was a vast understatement. Leon could think of no part of his report that the king was going to like. He would be lucky if the king didn't have him tossed into the dungeon just on general principle. He told him about the prince's decision to have them split up to cover more ground. He did not mention Gwaine and Lancelot by name, thinking that would further infuriate the royal, but Uther knew very well that the two men frequently accompanied his son whenever he rode out of sight of the citadel. He had so far not had a open confrontation with Arthur over the matter, but that was for another day.

Most of the rest of Leon's report had been attained second hand (largely gathered from Gwaine and Lancelot.) He mentioned the nobleman and his retinue that Arthur fell in with, the attack of the goblin horde during the night and the prince being injured, the fortuitous arrival of Captain Benarik, and much later, the encounter with the impetuous daughter of the goddess of the underworld, (having actually been present for part of the latter.)

The king was aware that much of the information that Sir Leon was conveying to him was third hand. He would very much like to have spoken with Gwaine and Lancelot but that was not feasible under the circumstances. It did not escape the king's notice that there was a large block of unaccounted for time in which his son's servant had vanished with his injured son.

Gaius had ignored Merlin's protestations of being uninjured and had checked him over anyway.

"I _was_ injured, Gaius. I had a deep sword cut here." He pushed the sleeve of his shirt up and showed the physician the unbroken skin. "Brigid spread her mantle over both of us and we were healed."

"Well," Gaius said, as he settled himself into a chair, "I'm listening."

Although drowsy and wanting his bed, Merlin told his guardian of the events of the previous three days, including, with some hesitation, what Eilidh had told him about the goblins' fear of cats.

Gaius sat silent for a moment. "I have heard this before. You'd be wise not to dismiss this out of hand, Merlin. Cats have an interesting history. They were first domesticated by the ancient Egyptians around 2000 BC. The Egyptians noticed that cats hunted the mice and rats that ate their grain and attacked their food supplies. They also preyed upon venomous snakes such as cobras and vipers. The Egyptian cat-goddess, Bast or Bastet, is the daughter of their sun god, Ra."

Gaius stopped. Merlin had his head lying on his arms on the table. He couldn't see his eyes, but he was fairly sure they'd be closed. He reached over to shake his shoulder. "Go to bed, M -"

That was the point at which the king walked through the door.

_The king must have come directly from talking with Sir Leon_, Gaius thought. _But why come here? Well, that was easy. Thanks to the king's short-sighted orders, his own son lay in a drugged sleep. Of course he wanted to talk to Merlin. _

The physician was uncomfortably aware that Uther was staring at his ward in the predatory way a hawk might stare at a mouse. He had a brief but decidedly unwise impulse to gather the boy protectively in his arms. "Merlin," Gaius said again, lightly shaking his shoulder. "The king is here. I believe that he wishes to speak to you." He looked questioningly at the king as the boy sat up, blinking sleep from indigo eyes, then both made as if to stand. Uther waved them back down.

Uther nodded curtly at the physician. "You are correct, Gaius." To Merlin: "I have come from listening to Sir Leon's report. It was not entirely satisfactory. There were large - gaps in it, missing blocks of time, if you will."

_Uh, oh_, Merlin thought. He tried to think. Lancelot would not have told Sir Leon about his using magic to heal Gwaine so he was safe there. What else? Leon would not have known about the fortuitously falling tree branches so, again, safe. He relaxed slightly. He might survive this interview after all. "Yes, Sire," he said, politely. "What do you wish to know?" Innocence shone from guileless blue eyes. Gaius was familiar with that look. _Don't overplay your hand, Merlin_, he thought.

"Describe my son's movements during the goblin attack and, most particularly, how he managed to escape."

Tension resettled in his neck and shoulders. Arthur had told him later that the goblin grasping his wrist had suddenly shrieked in pain and turned loose. The gemstones had left scorching black marks on the creature's mottled, mud-colored skin. Would Uther consider protective gemstones magic? Probably. He wasn't anxious to find out.

"He's very good with a sword, Sire," Merlin said, in a masterful bit of understatement.

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Uther was not particularly put out by the evasive answer. He had a father's pride in his son's accomplishments. "Continue."

"We were - there were others with us, Sire. A noble and his men, and later, warriors from Somerset."

"I have been told of this," Uther said. Under different circumstance, he might have been angered by King Melwas' men chasing the goblins across kingdom borders.

"Their arrival quite possibly saved all our lives."

"Do you know where these men are now?" the king asked.

"No, Sire." Though he was careful not to show it, Merlin grew suddenly impatient. He had a strong feeling, almost intuitive, that he needed to know where Benarik and his men were. How much longer was this interview going to take?

"You took Arthur somewhere, didn't you? Away from the battle," the king persisted.

"Yes, Sire. I took him some distance away then pulled him over an embankment. There was a recessed area at the base of it, and I pushed him into it." There was a brief pause. "And myself. I crawled in after him."

"Both of the boys were injured, Sire," Gaius said.

Uther stared for a moment at the young man that Arthur was so unaccountably fond of. It came to him in a rare flash of insight that of all the people surrounding his son, the one with the greatest access to and in the best position to harm or help his son was Merlin. And he, Uther, had given the boy this power when he gave him to Arthur as manservant.


	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter Eight

By the time the king left, Merlin was too tired and sleepy to scry Benarik's location which had been his original intention. Gaius had insisted that he eat something, then he had stumbled up the stairs to his little room. He soon fell into a sleep troubled by vivid jumbled images of trying desperately to save Gwaine's life, of vile, disgusting goblins, Eilidh and her orange cat, pulling a badly injured prince down an embankment, and a girl with auburn hair in strange clothing, rubies dangling from a chain around her neck.

The young man sat up gasping, looking wildly around the darkness, his raven hair damp with perspiration. _Gwaine's all right_, he told himself, trying to steady his breathing. _Arthur is in his bed sleeping. _He felt an intense feeling of homesickness wishing he could see his mother. After a few moments, his breathing became calmer and his heart rate returned to near normal. He lay back down, trying to think of pleasant things. He thought of the Pegasus, Ouranos, her coat scented like freshly fallen rain and wondered if the elves would let him see her again. After a while, he fell asleep again, this time his dreams gentler, less frenetic. He dreamed of Justin designing and painting the firebird on the coat of arms at Drachenfels, the soft-spoken artisan painting in beautiful, painstaking detail. He woke before dawn, knowing why Mariana had told him he needed Justin.

But first, a quick trip to the kitchens - there was something he needed to pick up.

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Early morning light flooded into Arthur's bedchamber as a servant opened his windows, an unusually quiet servant. The blonde blearily opened one eye. It was not Merlin. "Where is my -?" He hastily sat up and looked around the room. There was a cat drowsily warming itself in front of the fire. It was mostly black with white stockings and green-gold eyes. Although the prince would not have known it, the animal was one of the cats who hung around the kitchen door for the occasional hand-out.

"Why is there a cat in my chambers?" Arthur asked the servant.

"I don't know, Sire," the servant answered nervously, "It was here when I came."

"Tell the guards to step into my room," Arthur demanded. The cat chose that moment to rise to its haunches and stretch lazily, then in an unexpected display of kinetic energy, it raced to the bed and bounded effortlessly on top of it. It found a warm spot near the prince and settled in.

A few moments later, Derek and another man entered the room and approached his bed.

"How did this cat get into my chambers?" Arthur asked. The animal was actually purring.

"Your manservant brought it while you were sleeping," one guard replied.

"He said it was for your protection," Derek, the other guard, replied. It was a struggle to keep his expression neutral.

_From what_, Arthur wondered, _rampaging mice? _His eyes fell on the gemstones on his left wrist. It was then that Arthur began to wonder if he had been too indulgent, allowing Merlin to place amulets and protective stones on his person. Had the young man now progressed to protective _animals? _

"Derek, locate my manservant. Bring him here. Drag him, if necessary." The prince knew Derek would ignore the last part of his command. The man was indebted to the warlock for saving his life in the incident with the basilisk.

After the guards left, the prince got up and began dressing himself, deep in thought. He was having trouble remembering events of the previous evening. Whatever Gaius had given him had knocked him out. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He was starting to get a bad feeling and was not particularly surprised when the guards returned a half hour later saying that Merlin was not to be found. Arthur swore under his breath.

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Merlin located Justin easily enough. The quiet, reserved man was painting a rather ferocious-looking dragon on a castle wall in one of the rooms used for council meetings, a commission obtained for him by his father, a powerful noble and close friend to the king.

The dark-haired young man stood behind the artisan for a moment, watching him paint. "He looks like he could just fly right off there."

"_No, Merlin!" _Justin said, hastily. "Just no."

"I wasn't going to," Merlin said, soothingly. "Can you take a break - a rather lengthy one? I need your help." He explained what he needed.

"How much time do I have to do this?"

"You need to be finished by nightfall and out of there," the warlock replied.

"Not a lot of time then."

"No, but they don't have to be works of art, Justin. Just functional."

"I can do that," the gray-eyed man replied.

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"Did you ask Gaius where his ward was?" Arthur asked.

"No, Sire," Derek replied, "I'll do so immediately." The tall, broad-shouldered guard turned toward the door.

"Wait. Never mind," the blonde said hastily. "I'll ask him myself."

Derek held the door open for the prince just as two additional guards arrived at the entrance. _This can't be good_, Arthur thought. He was right.

Both guards nodded their heads at the royal. "The king sends greetings and requests your presence in his chambers for breakfast, Sire," one of them said, formally.

Arthur swore under his breath. "Tell my father I'll be there shortly."

There was an awkward little silence. "Well?" Arthur said, in an icy tone when no one moved. In a list of his ten most hated things, his will being thwarted occupied the top five spots.

One of the guards cleared his throat nervously. "The king has requested -" He cleared his throat again. "-ordered that we provide an escort for you." The prince's temper tantrums were legendary.

The blonde gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to win this one. _Point to you, father. _"All right." Derek was still standing beside him. The prince grabbed his arm in an iron grip. "Derek, assist me with my coat. My manservant appears to have overslept this morning."

"Certainly, Sire." The tall guard followed the prince back into his room. Arthur looked around the room seemingly at a loss.

"I'm not positive where Merlin keeps it."

Derek walked over to the wardrobe and selected one of the coats. He didn't bother asking if the prince liked it. The two men held a whispered conversation while the guard assisted him.

"Talk to Gaius first," Arthur said, hurriedly, "then check the stables. See what horses are missing. Talk to the stable hands. See if anyone saw Merlin leaving. Was he alone?"

The two newer guards at the door shifted restlessly. "Sire?"

"I'm nearly finished," Derek said over his shoulder, fussing with the front of the coat.

"Come to my father's chambers afterwards," the prince continued in a rushed undertone. "Make an excuse to speak with me privately."

"There you go, Your Highness," the guard said, loudly, brushing his hand over the shoulder and front of the coat. "You're all set."


	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter Nine

Merlin was going to suggest that Justin ride the buckskin, Theta, but the artisan informed him that his father had bought him a horse, a very expensive one. The noble seemed determined to make up for years of ignoring his only offspring. His son had been born out of wedlock to a servant in his employ, and Lord Torr had ignored him for the first thirty years of his existence.

Merlin himself decided to take Asterion, Arthur's new horse. He was fairly sure that the stranger who delivered the horse in the driving rain had been Gabriel. His hood had been pulled over his head, not to keep himself dry, but to hide his pointed ears. The elves had wanted the prince to have the enchanted horse either to track his movements or to keep him safe. Merlin was not entirely sure which.

The warlock had helped Justin gather up paintbrushes, jars of pigment, and a small water jar and stuff them in two saddlebags. Their destination was a old stone structure which had been at various times, a Roman temple (to the goddess Minerva he thought), a private dwelling, an armory, and for a time even a small tavern. It was currently unoccupied. Part of the sloped roof was crumbling, but all of the walls were intact which was all that Merlin actually cared about.

Merlin's big plan was for the artisan to paint lots of cats on the walls, make sure Justin was safely on his way back to Camelot _before_ sunset, scry the current location of the goblins and/or Captain Benarik, use a magic spell to animate all the cats, ride out on Asterion, make sure the goblins identified him and not Arthur as the magic-user, and lure them back here where the cats would tear them to pieces. It was a wonderful plan in theory, but he really should have had a backup plan. Plan A started to go to hell almost from the getgo.

King Uther's private chambers

"Merlin took Justin with him," Derek said.

"He what?" Arthur asked, startled. The prince had hastily stepped to the doorway and out of his father's hearing when the guard had finally appeared.

"Anything I need to deal with, Arthur?" the king called from where he sat at the table he and his son were using for breakfast.

Arthur turned half-around. "No, father, just a mix-up in scheduling. It'll just take a moment to straighten out." To Derek: "Go on."

"Merlin took your new horse, the cream-colored one. Asterion?" The prince nodded, too flabbergasted for speech. "Justin is on a horse that was recently purchased for him by his father according to a stable hand." The guard paused for a moment to see if the prince had anything to say. He did not. "As almost everyone in the castle knows, Justin has been painting a dragon in one of the council rooms, so that was one of the first places I went. One of the guards in that corridor told me that the man had started painting very early, but when your servant came, the two of them had gathered up all the jars of paint and all the brushes, and hurriedly left."

The prince stared unfocused into space. He didn't like where any of this was heading. Mental images chased each other through his mind - the cat in his room 'for his protection,' the red and white dragons at his father's ill-fated dinner party, and Justin, who could paint anything, painting the firebird at Drachenfelds in searingly beautiful detail. He swore under his breath. If he ever got his hands on his exasperating servant, he was going to wring his neck. A _frission_ of fear rippled down the back of his neck at the thought. The idiot was going to get himself killed before he got the chance to. He needed to talk to Gaius. Badly.

"Arthur?" His father sounded impatient.

"Sorry, father. Be right with you." To Derek: "I need you to ride to the village of Tarquin. Gwaine has been staying there in a room over the tavern. Have him locate Lancelot. I'll meet them at the usual place as soon as I can get away from my father and have talked with Gaius."

"Not the knights?"

"No, I can't chance it. Merlin is almost certainly using magic. Gwaine hasn't said anything, but he could hardly have failed to notice being healed of a sword cut."

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Captain Benarik halted his men and dismounted. Holding the reins in his hand, he looked around uneasily. The wind had picked up, whistling through the trees and stirring the fallen leaves and forest debris. Darkening clouds scudded across the midday sky. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong, that there was something he'd forgotten. He looked behind him. Lord Radborne, his personal servant, and his three surviving men rode with them, largely for the added protection.

"We'll break here. Get something to eat. Water the horses," he ordered. He glanced at the noble. Lord Radborne nodded at him. He had no objections.

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"Why did Merlin think a cat could protect me from goblins?" Now that he put the thought into words, the whole idea seemed absurd.

"Because," Gaius said, "he was told that by a woman named Eilidh." The prince had come barreling into his quarters moments earlier all coiled energy and single-minded intensity.

"Eilidh?" The prince didn't recall anyone by that name.

"I believe you spoke with her in a village. She had an orange cat."

"But she didn't say that - oh." Arthur had a sudden memory flash of Merlin leaving himself, Gwaine, and Lance for a short time. He snarled under his breath. The dollophead rode back to speak to her again. And said nothing.

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Upon reaching the old structure, Merlin helped the artisan set up, carrying in paints and brushes and letting him pick a wall in the largest room where the ceiling was mostly intact. He watched for a few minutes as Justin began sketching with charcoal. Walking outside, he decided to scry Benarik's location again with a shallow bowl he had brought for that purpose.

They had stopped to eat and rest their horses he noted less than half an hour's ride from here. Making a spur-of-the moment decision, the warlock decided to ride over with the dual purpose of gleaming some information and giving Justin some space. He told the gray-eyed man his intention and received a distracted nod in return.

On the ride over, Merlin decided he needed a plausible excuse for showing up in their camp alone. He ran down a list of possibilities and picked one. He needn't have bothered. Both Lord Radborne and his servant, Zenas, were pleased to see him; the noble immediately asking after 'Alexander.' Captain Benarik greeted him courteously enough but seemed preoccupied.

Merlin carefully answered their questions. Yes, 'Alexander' had been injured. He had been bleeding from a number of sword cuts, in fact. The court physician at Camelot treated him, and he'll make a full recovery. The warlock looked up to see Benarik smiling at him. The man knew very well that Alexander was Prince Arthur.

xxxxxxxx

After the physician told him Merlin's probable destination, the blonde hurriedly rode out, avoiding both his father and Sir Leon. He had had one of the stable hands saddle Pyramus. He was too preoccupied to notice Percival and Elyan watching him leave.

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Benarik stood in the middle of their temporary camp amid swirling debris and gathering storm clouds. A single question surfaced in his mind - _why have the goblins been attacking only at night? _"Because," he said out loud, " they don't like bright sunlight."

Merlin looked up curiously at that from where he had been sitting talking to Zenas. He looked around, there _was_ no sunlight. Dark clouds had rolled in, cutting off the sun. The wind was starting to howl through the trees. Alarm surged through him as he jumped to his feet. He had left Justin alone and unprotected. He needed to get back now and get the soft-spoken artisan on his horse and headed back to Camelot.

"I need to leave now," Merlin turned and spoke to Zenas. "A friend of mine may be in danger." Asterion was snorting and moving restlessly as the warlock reached him and hurriedly mounted. He could hear Benarik shouting orders to all of them as he rode out. He looked back once as goblins broke through the trees and swarmed the camp.

The warlock reviewed his plan as he rode. It was still workable, he thought. Justin had had a couple of hours to draw and paint cats. Surely that was enough time for half a dozen cats, he thought naively, failing to factor in the artist's perfectionist tendencies. Merlin had no idea how long it took Justin to paint something. It had never been important before. Certainly Daegan hadn't cared.

Upon reaching the stone structure, the raven-haired young man had dismounted and raced inside, skidding to a halt. He stood there, shocked into silence. Justin had painted a single cat, but one so rich in detail, so life-like, that he fleetingly wondered if he even needed a spell to bring it to life.


	10. Chapter 10

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Chapter Ten

The warlock stared, mesmerized, at the one solitary cat. It had a long tapering head, its large ears triangular and wide at the base. The slim, muscular body was lithe and elegant; its fur glossy and fine. The animal's coloring was white with smoky gray extremities and face; the almond-shaped eyes a deep sapphire in color.

"I know, I know, I spent too much time on this one," Justin said, "I'll work faster."

"Um, no, this one will be enough," Merlin replied. "You need to ride back to Camelot now."

"I need to - what?" the artisan asked, confused. "I thought I had until sundown."

"I did too, but I failed to take into account the clouds moving in and the skies darkening," Merlin said. "It's bright sunlight they don't like." He explained to Justin about looking back as he rode off and seeing the goblins attacking the camp.

The raven-haired young man was about to discover that his artistic friend with the gentle manner also had a stubborn streak. Justin was reluctant to leave him.

Half-hour earlier, encampment

Kurogk wanted the yellow-haired warrior and the dark-haired one who'd helped him escape, and his second assault on Benarik and his companions was largely motivated by that. One of the goblins caught a glimpse of Merlin as he rode off, and he excitedly yelled at the lead goblin over the clash of weapons. Kurogk immediately demanded that four of the goblins ride after him and bring him back alive. This turned out to be a tactical error on his part as he had just reduced his fighting force by fully a third.

The combined forces of Captain Benarik and Lord Radborne soon either killed or put to rout the remaining goblins. Though pleased at the unexpected turn of events, Benarik was nevertheless perplexed. Why had the loathsome creatures made such a stupid blunder? A sinister reason soon presented itself to his mind. They were following Merlin - and they were after the prince.

Stone structure

The artisan finally agreed to leave on the condition that the warlock animate the single cat first. Although Merlin had his doubts about the small feline weighing what? - six or seven pounds - stopping even one repulsive monster in its tracks, he readily agreed. Anything to get Justin safely out of there.

"_Yáta__, bebiede __þe__ arisan cwicum."_ The first detectable movement was her whiskers, vibrating perhaps with a faint current of air moving through the room. Her ears swiveled next listening to sound only she could hear, and her wedge-shaped head turned, regarding them with eyes the color of deep blue sapphires. Justin had wasted no time painting steps; the animal leaped gracefully to the floor.

Merlin was diverted in spite of himself. The elegant creature was beautiful, and he told his artistic friend as much. "All right, Justin," he said, getting down to business, "I've done what you asked. Now for your end of the bargain."

The son of arguably the most powerful noble in the kingdom gave him no more argument. The two of them gathered various jars and brushes together, and Justin mounted his horse, and taking his leave of the warlock, rode off. He hesitated only once. He looked back over his shoulder some distance off and saw several of the vile goblins rushing into the open. _Merlin had magic, _he thought, _and he had the cat. _The two would have to be enough until he, Justin, could find the prince.

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"_Ic __þe __wiþdrífe__," _Merlin intoned, hoping to delay the goblins enough until Justin was safely out of reach. He immediately realized his mistake.

"The magic-user!" one of them yelled, as two of them were flung backwards by his spell, and a third fell to one knee. "Take him alive!"

_They were never after Justin_, Merlin thought, _they were after him._ A goblin suddenly vanished and reappeared just to his right. The warlock stepped hastily further away and tried a different spell. _"Awenda__þ __eft __wansæliga __neat__." _

The goblin closest to him careened violently into a tree with a satisfying snap. _One down, _he thought, _if not dead, at least out of commission. _His attention had been diverted long enough for two of the remaining goblins to move in closer. The third had vanished.

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The prince had met up with Gwaine and Lancelot at a prearranged meeting place, and the three of them had ridden _ventre __à__ terre _through the forest. When they slowed their pace to a walk, Gwaine finally broached the topic that had been puzzling him.

"I'm fairly sure I had a deep sword cut - here," the rakish knight said, touching his side. "Anybody got a big secret they want to share with me?"

"Not now, Gwaine," Arthur said, "I need to get to Merlin before someone else manages to kill him first."

"First?" Lancelot queried.

"I'm guessing that our boy didn't ask permission of his royal highness here before riding off," the other knight replied, with a toss of his long hair. "Merlin's not a slave, Arthur. He doesn't need your permission for every little damn thing he does."

"Shut up, Gwaine."

Stone structure, exterior

The warlock looked around frantically, watching for the third creature to materialize. One of the other two goblins took advantage of his distracted state to blind-side him with magic that picked up the warlock and hurled him backwards where he fell heavily to the ground rolling over and over. Merlin tried to pull himself to his knees when another spell catapulted him into a large branch which had fallen to the ground. He slumped to the ground, desperately trying to hold on to consciousness as something wet and sticky seeped from a cut on his temple. The last sound he thought he heard was a hiss. It wasn't a very loud hiss. _Strange sound for a goblin to make_.

**a/n: Justin painting a Siamese on the wall was an anachronism as the breed which originated in Siam (Thailand) was not introduced into the UK until the late nineteenth century. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Please read and review. Thanks.**

Chapter Eleven

The three surviving goblins stared for a moment in horror at the small cat. They backed up hastily with loud guttural shrieks, tripping and shoving at each other to get out of there. They ran all the way to distant trees where they stopped and looked back in impotent rage and frustration at the unexpected development. Their prize, lying unconscious and bleeding on the ground, had been within their grasp.

The cat padded silently over to where the warlock lay and huddled against his body. She was hungry and on edge from the brewing tempest. This human needed to wake up and feed her.

Elsewhere

Justin did not have to ride all the way back to the citadel to find Arthur. The prince, Gwaine, and Lancelot were riding toward him.

"Merlin needs help, Sire," the artisan said, as soon as they got within hearing.

_Now there's a shock_, Arthur thought, sarcastically. "What happened?"

The artisan explained the situation. "I'll take you to him."

"We know where he is," Gwaine said, "It used to be a Roman temple, right?"

"I think so, yes."

Justin turned his horse and fell in beside them. No one told him he had to return to the castle.

Stone structure, exterior

A single rider rode into the little clearing around the ancient temple. The figure wore a light gray cape with the hood up. He glanced first at where the warlock lay with the small feline pressed against his body, then with a quick glance over his shoulder he saw a goblin watching him from a distant tree, the repugnant creature's body half-hidden by its trunk.

Pushing the hood back to reveal long honey-blonde hair and the ethereal beauty of an elf, the man knelt beside the two of them. "You've done well, little one," he said to the cat, reaching out to pet the top of her head.

"Emrys, you need to wake up. We need to get you out of here." He gently pushed some of the warlock's matted dark hair to the side to check on the boy's injury. "It's stopped bleeding," he said to himself.

_Gabriel_, was Merlin's first coherent thought. _Well, that settled the question of whether or not the elves could track the horse._ _They could_.

The warlock groaned and sat up with Gabriel's help. "It's unsafe for you here, Emrys." The elf got to his feet and stood motionless for a moment. The dark-haired young man could hear him call for Asterion in his mind.

Moments later, Gabriel was looking through the cream-colored stallion's saddle bags. "Do you have a cape, Emrys? I'm afraid we're going to get caught in the rain."

"Yes. Where are you taking me?"

"We're too far from the druids, but there are some large caves near here. Hopefully we can make it before the worst of the storm hits." He pulled the cape over Merlin's shoulders. "This should keep you dry."

The warlock mounted Asterion, and the elf handed him the cat. Merlin gave one last shuddering look at the goblins hidden among the trees.

Stone structure, later

Arthur arrived with his three companions to find Merlin gone. He walked around studying the disturbed earth, kicking at the occasional broken twig, Gwaine hunkered down nearby trying to read the foot prints. "_Something_ went down here, Arthur," the knight said, uneasily.

They both looked up at a shout from Lancelot. "There's a dead goblin out here, Arthur. Looks like its neck is broken."

Neither the prince nor Gwaine was interested in a closer look. "Get back over here, Lance, and _do not _go off on your own," Arthur snapped. Worry over Merlin was making him feel sick. He didn't need to start worrying about anyone else right now.

Justin was looking around for the cat. He didn't see it. He even went inside the stone structure and stared at the wall. Nothing.

"Arthur," Gwaine said, excitedly, "I've found some horse tracks. Two horses. Whoever they are, they're headed in that direction." He pointed his arm. The other three gathered around to study the tracks.

"Probably looking for shelter in the caves," Arthur replied, with a glance at the skies. "Let's go."

Large caves, later

The caves were large enough that the elf had managed to get both horses inside. Merlin was sitting on the floor of the cave feeding the cat bits of venison. "Don't you have any fish, Gabriel? I think she wants some fish."

The elf smiled. "No, I don't. And you need to save some of that food for yourself."

They both looked up at the sound of approaching horses. There was a general commotion as the prince and his companions dismounted and led their horses into the caves. The prince looked from Merlin to Gabriel. "He's injured?" he asked the elf while the other three greeted their friend.

"A cut on his temple. He was unconscious when I found him," the elf replied.

"It seems I am indebted to you once again, Gabriel. How did you find him?"

"Through your horse, Arthur," Merlin interjected. "He was a gift from the elves."

The prince found that relief was making him feel weak in the knees. He slumped down beside his friend and leaned his head back against the wall of the cave as the full fury of the storm broke outside. "You're not planning on sticking that animal in my room, are you, Merlin?"

"No."

The End

**a/n: This story was partly inspired by the Japanese fairy tale, "The Boy Who Drew Cats."**

**a/n: The title comes from Macbeth, act 4, scene 1: "By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes." **

**a/n: Mariana, Justin, and Daegan are from "Rising Sun." Gabriel is from "Starfall." Derek was in both "Black Opal" and "Hostage to Fortune." Ouranos (Pegasus) is from "Mountain Pass," and the peregrine falcon has been in several of my stories. **


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